


Puzzle Pieces

by TrickedThem



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, HQ Rarepair Week, M/M, oikawa and iwaizumi are mostly background characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 18:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3619704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrickedThem/pseuds/TrickedThem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>A puzzle piece has only four chances to fit with another puzzle piece. Now think of two puzzle pieces trying to fit with each other. The probability of one side connecting with the exact same side is once every sixteenth time.</p>
  <p>It is not always guaranteed to work every time, either. </p>
</blockquote><br/>Written for the hq!! rarepair week: day two (march 26th): distance / <strike>language</strike>.
            </blockquote>





	Puzzle Pieces

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tookumade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tookumade/gifts).



> A big thank you to cuddlebros ([tadokorocchiis on tumblr](http://tadokorocchiis.tumblr.com/)) for beta'ing for me. ~~true, they went overboard with the italics but still (:P)~~ In short, fie is amazing and wonderful for correcting all my mistakes and giving me their invaluable opinions. 
> 
> Another big thank you to tookumade who made me ship this in the first place and inspired me to write this. Also, they were around and willing to listen to me rant about this and moan about how i am never going to finish it. You knew most of what is going to happen but please accept this gift.
> 
> P.S. I don't own anything and any remaining mistakes are mine.

As the sun rose, relief filled those who were still alive and a sliver of hope was kindled in those who were fighting to live - those who could still pay attention to the rising sun, that is. Most were busy carrying the bodies of the injured, while some where already mourning.

The scent of death and blood coiled around them, oppressive and unimportant. Hanamaki was cold in Issei’s arms, a stark contrast to the glaring sun warming Issei’s back.

Issei’s stomach churned, as he helplessly watched Hanamaki get paler by the second. His blood was seeping out of his wounds, pooling around them, mingling with the dirt beneath them.

Issei felt trapped in his body, frozen and unable to move, grounded in his place by the blood – _oh God that’s Takahiro’s blood_ – covering him. He felt weighed down with every shallow breath Hanamaki took.

Hanamaki kept trying to say something, but Issei hushed him. He didn’t want Hanamaki to waste his strength. Instead Issei tried to stop the bleeding by pressing on the most serious of his wounds, the one where the sword tore through the flesh of Hanamaki’s stomach. He tried to be mindful of the pressure as well, he didn’t want to cause Hanamaki any more pain. For all his efforts, all he got was more blood covering his already soaked and trembling hands.

Hanamaki opened his eyes and reached up with a hand. Issei rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands and adjusted his position in order to support Hanamaki better. He grabbed Hanamaki’s hand and brought it up to his face. Hanamaki’s grip was weak, just barely holding on.

Hanamaki opened his mouth to wet his dry lips. He drew a shallow, shuddering breath. “… Don’t worry, Issei,” He pauses to heave, trying to catch his breath.

Issei took this opportunity to stop Hanamaki out of concern for him. “Shh, don’t speak, the medics will be here soon and you will be okay, won’t you? I told you not to behave recklessly but you still went and tried to take everything on your own. You can’t leave me now, you promised you-”

But most importantly because Issei didn’t want to hear the words he knew were coming.

“It’s okay. We promised, didn’t we? The first to go will have to find the other…” Hanamaki rasped before coughing. He removed his hand from Issei’s grip to cover his mouth. When he opened his hand, fresh blood covered his palm. Hanamaki pretended it wasn’t there and wiped his hand on the ground. He looked up and tried to smile for Issei.

Issei played along and grabbed his hand. Issei helped Hanamaki cup his cheek.

“You will find me, won’t you?” Issei’s cheek felt so warm beneath his hand.

“I will. I swear. I will find you again.”

Hanamaki motioned for Issei to lean down. Hanamaki pressed a kiss to Issei’s forehead – Issei wanted to laugh but all that came out was a choked sob – and whispered something in his ear.

"Close your eyes."

When Issei leaned back and opened his eyes Hanamaki was motionless in his lap. Issei blinked and gently placed him on the ground. Issei sat still by Hanamaki’s side.

The sun reaches its highest point in the sky when a medic comes over. Issei waves him away, saying he will take care of it. Only then does Issei lean down and press his ear to Hanamaki’s chest. He can’t hear anything, of course he can’t. His pulse is just weak. He has just closed his eyes to rest.

Issei takes a shuddering breath and rubs at his eyes. He looks up towards the sky. It is annoyingly clear. Issei curses and bites his lip to stifle his sobs. He had hoped it would rain and cover his tears.

__

A puzzle piece has only four chances to fit with another puzzle piece. Now think of two puzzle pieces trying to fit with each other. The probability of one side connecting with the exact same side is once every sixteenth time.

It is not always guaranteed to work every time, either.

That’s how reincarnation is.

__

It was a dare. A ridiculous dare that Asazu’s equally ridiculous friends egged him to accept. Asazu grumbled all the way but accepted the dare none the less. It wasn’t a complicated dare really, all he had to do was to sneak into the cottage at the edge of town and bring proof of his visit.

Sounds simple, right?

No.

First, Asazu has to stay awake in bed till midnight to make sure that everyone is asleep before slipping out of the house. Once outside, Asazu scowls as he tries not to shiver. He pulls his yukata tighter around him and starts the trek to the abandon cottage. At least the moon illuminates his way. Fifteen minutes later and Asazu is standing in front of it.

It is a small, dingy thing that looks like it could fall apartfrom the slightest push or if a wind strong enough blows by it and Asazu has to remind himself of his mission, no need to wonder about the history of the cottage or what his grandmother once told him. She told him stories her mother told her, tales of the abandoned cottage and the person that used to live there but disappeared one day. Mostly his grandmother repeated the numerous warnings to stay away from it her mother told her.

Asazu runs a hand through his dark, messy hair and takes a deep breath. He can do this.

Slowly, he pries the door open, careful of any creaking. He breathes out in relief when he opens the door with no problems. Asazu has a full view of the cottage from where he is standing. There is a thick layer of dust covering everything and everything is a dirty mess. The furniture – or what little remains – looks old, broken and torn in various places. It has probably been vandalised by others. On the left the chest’s drawers are stuck open as if someone has gathered their things and ran away in a hurry.

Something small in one corner reflects the light of the moon coming from the window and in that instant Asazu knows what he is going to take back with him. He steps into the cottage; takes careful steps towards the back of it.

Asazu reaches a trembling hand towards the pile and grabs what turns out to be a large shard of a rusted mirror. The wind blows through the cottage making the door creek. Startled, Asazu pockets the mirror shard in the sleeve of his yukata and moves to get out. That’s when he sees something moving in the corner of his eye.

He whirls around to see a person standing in front of what used to be the window, leaning against the window frame and giving Asazu their back. The moon shines down on them, highlighting their hair the colour of dried blood.

Asazu doesn’t think twice before running out of the cottage straight to his home to hide under his kakebuton. He closes his eyes and tries to will any thoughts of the spirit away. [1]

In his dreams Asazu is back in the cottage. The spirit stares at him, speaking to him of things Asazu can’t hear before giving up and turning towards the window and the moon once more.

(Perhaps once Asazu is calm and thinks back on this incident, he would have realised that there was no foot prints on the dusty floor beside his and that the spirit’s yukata was frayed and seemed to have seen better days.)

__

It is nine in the morning and the day is already shaping out to be not his day, at all. His alarm just had to somehow turn itself off on the day the project was due. Thankfully, Yatuka woke up only fifteen minutes after he was supposed to. Sure, he woke up with his heart pounding in his chest, with cold sweat covering him and the recurring dream he has been having since he was 17 about blood covering his hands to his elbows and a cold body at his feet, but at least he woke up in time.

Yatuka takes a deep breath and focuses on calming himself down before he gets out of bed. He hurries through his routine. He glances at the clock and almost considers forgoing taking a shower just to use the extra five minutes to drink coffee. In the end, he ends up running naked around his apartment trying to set his coffee machine and shower handles at the same time. The water temperature turns out to be okay, if a bit on the cold side while the coffee machine gives him trouble, nothing new here. He burns his tongue taking a sip of the scalding liquid. His eyes tear and Yatuka gulps the coffee down on reflex, cursing all the while.

Last minute check ups prove useful when Yatuka almost forgets his laptop and laptop glasses. He gently places his laptop in his backpack. On his way back to the bedroom, Yatuka stops in front of the mirror. He fixes his tie; runs a hand through his dark hair in a futile attempt to tame the wide curls into some semblance of order.

Satisfied, Yakuta puts on his jacket. Out of the corner of his eye, he glances at the clock and curses again. He hurriedly stuffs the rest of his things into his hand bag; makes his way to the door.

He locks the door to his apartment and prays to every God he knows that his noisy neighbour won’t come out and talks to him about things Yatuka doesn’t care about. Why should he care about his mean friend? Boyfriend? Who won’t let him near his kitchen to do as he pleases? In fact, why is Yatuka is thinking of these things instead of hurrying to the bus station?

He passes by the neighbour’s door and almost panics. He can hear his neighbour singing loudly and to his heart’s content. It completely drowns out the complaints of his boyfriend. Yatuka’s ears ring in sympathy as he runs to the bus station.

He arrives with three minutes to spare. Yatuka is just about to pat himself on the back when he collides with someone. The air gets knocked out of him and his hand bag falls on the ground. It opens and his things scatter across the pavement.

"I am sorry. Excuse me!" Yatuka apologises; adjusts his glasses before bending down and gathering his things. The bus is almost here and Yatuka has no intention of wasting time arguing with strangers who should look where they are going. He haphazardly throws his things in his bag and hurries to board the bus without sparing a glance to the person he was apologising to.

The person he collided with watches, amused, as Yatuka gathers his things. Taka sticks around till Yatuka rides the bus. There is something strangely familiar in the way Yatuka stands up, smoothes his clothes. Taka can’t pinpoint it, and he can’t remember meeting that person before. He could definitely remember someone with that hair and thick eyebrows like him.

Taka is startled from his reverie when his phone rings in his pocket. It must be Oiwa wondering where he is. He runs a hand through his light maroon hair and shrugs. He moves on, thoughts of dark hair and dark eyes almost forgot. Oiwa promised him a breakfast, one that isn’t poisoned by his cheery boyfriend, after all. [2]

__

Nap time is Masaki’s favourite time of the day. Sure, he loves the little brats he takes care of everyday, and doesn’t even mind indulging their simple whims. But even Masaki’s infinite patience can only extend so far, and staying in the company of kids who are prone to cry and scream at the drop of the hat exhausts him. He should have listened to his mother when she told him working in a hoikuen isn’t the right job for him. [3]

Ugh, instead of thinking this over he should go check on the little brats already. God knows Iori shouldn’t be left alone for long, even if Yoshimori is there to curb the worst of his actions.

Silently, he opens the door and peeks in. Huh, one of the kids is sitting up in his bed. Thank God Ichiro is a quiet child or Masaki would have had to calm everyone and tell them another story. He doesn’t even want to consider what would happen if it was Iori that woke up first. All he knows for certain is Iori would have made a mess of everything till someone calmed him down or placed him next to Yoshimori. How Yoshimoriput up with the fussy brunet is beyond Masaki.

Masaki walks carefully and as silently as he could to reach the bed in the corner of the room. On the way he passes by Yoshimori’s bed and fondly shakes his head. Iori is clutching the blanket close to his chest, leaving Yoshimori mostly uncovered. Masaki detours and grabs another blanket. He covers Yoshimori first before tucking them both in.

When Masaki looks towards Ichiro’s bed, the light maroon haired child is looking back at him. He stands up and raises his hands in the air for the universal “carry me” sign. Masaki obliges and carries him back to the kitchen.

"Ichiro-kun, huh? Why aren’t you asleep?" Masaki asks. He switches his hold on Ichiro so he is carrying him with his left arm and opens the fridge with his right. He nudges the door open with his hip and rummages through the fridge.

"Couldn’t sleep yet, Masaki-sensei." Ichiro mumbles, grabbing onto his dark hair and pulling, hard. Or as hard as a five year old can pull, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Masaki tries not to wince at the treatment of his poor hair. His mother words come back to him for the second time today – " _Masaki, if you can’t find a solution for this hair of yours you should do as your father does and cut it._ " Perhaps Masaki will call her when he gets home.

"What do you say, hot chocolate? With…” He trails off as he opens the cupboard and looks through it. “Some chocolate cookies too. Sounds good, no?" Masaki hums, already reaching for the cookies and handing one to Ichiro. Ichiro nods and immediately lets go of his hair, grabby hands already reaching for the cookies.

__

Hanamaki wakes up to the doorbell ringing. He groans and considers smothering himself with the pillow and ignoring whoever it is on the door.

The ringing continues. There is only one person who repeatedly and insistently rings the bell like that.

Fucking Oikawa.

Hanamaki flips on his back, dislodging the cat in the process. The cat opens one eye to glare at Hanamaki and flicks its tail in his face. Hanamaki sits there for a minute, mindlessly petting the cat and blinking owlishly at the ceiling. Hanamaki isn’t sure he wants to deal with Oikawa first thing in the… morning?

He looks at the bedside clock. It reads 2:15.

Close enough.

Hanamaki drags himself out of the bed to answer the door, not even bothering to put on a shirt. The cat follows him out of the bedroom. Hanamaki yawns as he opens the door. Oikawa takes one look at him and shakes his head, as if _he_ looks better in the morning. He has seen Oikawa in the morning, his bed head is glorious. Oikawa gets in and takes off his shoes by the door.

“Hana-chan, took you long enough.” Oikawa complains as a way of greeting. Before Hanamkai can think of a reply Oikawa is already heading straight for the kitchen with a satisfied smirk. Hanamaki might not have seen the smirk but he can feel the smugness radiating from Oikawa miles away.

Okay, so he can’t. But! But he knows that the bastard used that nickname especially because he knows how much it annoys him. Every time Oikawa uses it, Hanamaki regrets playing truth and dare with him and Iwaizumi when they were ten. He shouldn’t have told them about staying with his grandma during the summer and all the cheek pinching her friends put him through, cooing “Hana-chan” and “He is so cute!” all the while. He rubs his cheeks in remembrance.

The embarrassing arsenal he got in return is his only consolation.

Consolation or not, the arsenal doesn’t stop Hanamaki from gritting his teeth and gripping the door handle with more force than necessary as he closes the door behind Oikawa. He leans against it and takes a deep breath.

"Good morning to you too." Hanamaki mumbles once calm, stretching till his back pops. Groaning in satisfaction he heads to the kitchen. The cat gets between his legs, so Hanamaki bends down and carries it lest he trip on it or something.

Oikawa already has a coffee pot brewing and if Hanamaki was someone else, he would have been on his knees thanking him. Instead, he takes a seat by the counter and places the cat on his lap. The cat doesn’t like that. It doesn’t like doing what Hanamaki wants, and jumps to the floor and to go and investigate the intruder.

Oikawa stops mid pouring two mugs when he notices it. He hands Hanamaki his mug and bends down to its level, reaching to pet it. “Aww, what a cute kitty. Is this the cat Iwa-chan was talking about the other day?” He asks and tries to pet the cat. But it bats his hand away.

Hanamaki peers over from his cup of coffee and smothers a snort at Oikawa’s squawk of indignation at being denied to pet the cat. Oikawa stands up and Hanamaki hides his smirk by taking another sip. From the glare Oikawa sends him, Hanamaki thinks he has been caught. “When is Iwaizumi coming anyway?” He deflects and acts innocent when Oikawa narrows his eyes.

Oikawa lets it go and plays along. “I dunno. He said he will get here when he wakes up. But Iwa-chan won’t get up before five so he should be here just in time for the game.”

“Wake him up at four then, got it.”

“…”

Hanamaki looks up to find Oikawa staring at him with a smirk. “What?” “Nothing, it is your funeral. Iwa-chan is grumpy when he wakes up after all.” Oikawa shrugs and pours himself a mug; he reaches up and opens the cupboard to get snacks to eat with his coffee.

Snacks ready, he takes a seat and leans against his hand. Oikawa reaches for the sugar canister and adds three spoonful of sugar and stirs. “What did you name it? Iwa-chan wouldn’t tell me.” He asks and takes a bite, watching amused as the cat jumps on the counter and sits in between him and Hanamaki, facing Oikawa and staring at him.

Hanamaki would love to tease and antagonize Oikawa a bit but there is something even better than that. “Matsu.” He shrugs and stares at his mug as if it is the most interesting thing in the world. For a few seconds there is no reaction from Oikawa before he gulps and takes a deep breath.

“Ehhh? You named your cat for your favourite onsen?” He cries in outrage, standing up from his chair. Oikawa’s sudden movement and the sound of the chair screeching against the floor startles Matsu, who hisses at Oikawa, but Oikawa is too preoccupied with the sudden information to pay the cat any attention.

This time Hanamaki doesn’t bother hiding his laughter, he laughs more when Oikawa pouts, sulking as he munches on his snacks. Oikawa’s reactions are the best after all.

It doesn’t help when the cat flicks its tail in Oikawa’s face before settling in Hanamaki’s lap and purring as he pets it.

+

Half an hour later Hanamaki walks out of his bedroom dressed and ready to go out. He just needs to find his keys. As helpful as ever, Oikawa sits on the couch flipping through the tv channels.

“I am going out to grab some food to replace the food you guys will eat. God knows Iwaizumi will clean my pantry just because he can.” Hanamaki lets out a small _ah-ha!_ when he finds the keys in the cat’s bed. He doesn’t even wonder how it got there, too used to this after a month of having the cat around.

“I will be back in an hour tops. You know where everything is and the cat food is by the fridge. Be nice to Matsu and don’t let him eat too much.” Oikawa just raises a hand in acknowledgement. “Oh, and try not to get too scratched.” Hanamaki snickers and closes the door behind him, ignoring Oikawa’s angry retorts.

Oikawa turns to the cat who is sitting beside him on the couch watching his every move. “Temporarily truce?” He offers when their eyes meet. The cat jumps off the couch and walks away. It meows from the kitchen, perhaps it wants food now? Oikawa groans. This is going to be a long hour.

+

By the time it is five the pantry is restocked and Hanamaki is curled up on the left side of the couch asleep with the cat curled up next to him. There is something to be said about both the cat and its owner sleeping and how only children take a nap. But then again there is nothing on the tv and Oikawa has already sent taunting messages to Tobio-chan and everyone else he wants to bother and he is bored. It doesn’t help that everything is so warm and cozy that even Oikawa has trouble keeping his eyes open.

When the doorbell rings, he and the cat are startled awake while Hanamaki just shifts in his sleep. Reluctantly Oikawa gets up to get the door while Matsu doesn’t waste time running towards the door. Matsu pounces on Iwaizumi the moment he steps through the door. Rubbing itself against his legs and meowing.

Iwaizumi carries it and Matsu settles on his shoulder, a purring putty in Iwaizumi’s hands and staring at Oikawa from its vintage point. Iwaizumi moves to head towards the living room where Hanamaki is when Oikawa stops him.

Oikawa looks around to make sure Hanamaki still asleep. “Iwa-chan, that cat has been staring at me all day.” He whispers clutching at Iwaizumi’s sleeve. “Huh? Isn’t that what cats do?” Iwaizumi whispers back, distracted by the purring Matsu.

“Look! It is smirking at me!” Oikawa cries out, pointing a finger at the cat. The cat in question just rubs itself against Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

“The fuck are you talking about? Cats can’t even smirk, Trashykawa.”

__

“Here is your food, sir. Sorry for the hold-up, as you can see we are busy this evening.”

“No problem. It’s definitely worth the wait.” The waiter places the plates on the table.

“Hope the food is to your liking.” The waiter smiles and turns to leave.

“Wait. This isn’t my order.” The waiter turns to face the light haired man. He takes out his notebook and checks the orders.

“I am sorry sir. There has been a mix up in the orders of table 1 and 27. I will get your order right away.”

Three minutes later the waiter is back with the correct order and a complimentary dessert to apologise for the mishap.

(Half way across the restaurant a dark haired man is staring at his order in astonishment. Seriously, who the fuck orders Agedashi tofu in this sweltering summer heat?)

__

It is three in the morning when his phone rings. It is not the ringing that wakes him up, it is the loud vibrations of the phone against the wooden nightstand that does. Akira groans and reaches a hand out and tries to make a grab for it without having to open his eyes.

“Do you have any idea what time it is? Shouldn’t you be asleep already or are you a kid too excited for tomorrow, shitty Kaname?” Akira growls into the phone then holds it away from his ear in preparation.

“But kiraaa-chan! He is at it again.” Kaname whines. Akira can imagine in vivid details the face Kaname must be pulling now, a pout and slightly teary eyes to match the most annoying whining tone Akira had the displeasure of hearing.

“Who is?” Akira has to hold back his sighs. Honestly, Akira doesn’t have time for this; he needs his sleep if he is going to spend tomorrow with Kaname and Mori standing in a line.

“My neighbour! You know, the asshole one! The one that keeps playing loud music and making noises at fuck o’clock.” Kaname grips his light brown hair and lightly pulls it in frustration.

“Why don’t you go talk to him then? Weren’t you supposed to two weeks ago?” Akira breathes through his nose and rubs his temple.

“I know but he keeps strange hours besides there is this thumping against the wall! What if he is murdering someone in there?” Kaname whispers and Akira groans. “Dude, he is not murdering someone he is most likely sleeping with someone.”

+

Half an hour later in the apartment next to Kaname’s two individuals lie on the bed panting for breath.

“That was…” Mori huffs, panting for breath, “good.” He finishes with a satisfied smirk.

Mori’s bed companion gets up to lean on his elbow and peer down on Mori. “Good enough for repeated performance some other day?” He asks and wiggles his eyebrows. Mori just laughs at the expression.

“Let’s just–” Mori considers his options. He could go home now or he could stay the night with this stranger who he has been sleeping with for the last two weeks. Decisions, decisions. “sleep for now. I have to get up early tomorrow anyway and who knows maybe I will take your email after all.”

Mori’s companion nods and shifts to get comfortable, he makes space for Mori to cuddle with him if he wants. Mori lets out a small laugh and accepts the silent invitation. He wraps his arms around him; rests his head against his shoulder as he tangles his legs.

+

At six Mori sneaks out of the bed and grabs his clothes from the floor. Ten minutes later he gently closes the front door behind him, leaving his phone email on a post-it note stuck to the fridge. He goes home and sleeps for three more hours before waking up and getting ready to meet with Akira and Kaname.

When they meet up in front of the book store, they all have bags under their eyes for different reasons.

+

They have been waiting in line for almost an hour now. They are less than twenty people away of meeting Kaname’s favourite novelist and Akira, the lucky bastard, has left them to get drinks. If Mori hears another word about this brilliant novelist, Obara something, who I have been following his work for five years now and how good he is. Did you know he is the same age as us? He wrote his first novel while he was a second year in high school, isn’t that amazing? Mori would commit violence. Kaname’s face being his most prominent feature be damned.

Another five minutes pass and still no sign of Akira. Where the fuck is he? How long does it take to buy drinks from the vending machine around the corner? Mori runs a hand through his light maroon hair and takes a deep breath.

The line moves and Kaname shuts up for a while. There are less than ten people ahead of them in the line and now Kaname has resorted to fidgeting in place, holding his books and other paraphernalia with gentle care.

Akira joins them when it is almost their turn, looking more awake and relaxed than he did in the morning. He hands them their drinks in silence. Mori quickly gulps down his coffee while Kaname doesn’t even open the can.

When it is their turn Kaname chats up a storm with the novelist, asking him questions about the plots and characters as he hands him book after book to sign. When he is done, Kaname places his books in the bag once again, but before he leaves he turns to Obara and takes out his phone.

“Can I take a photo with you?” Kaname asks, playing with the charm on his phone. Obara agrees and takes off his glasses and beanie to look more presentable. He messes up his dark hair even more and motions for Kaname to come around the table.

All the while Mori has to keep his face blank because the famous novelist Kaname loves so much turns out to be Kaname’s neighbour and Mori’s one night stand from last night.

__

 _This is boring._ Shoui mused, leaning back against the chair and turning the pages of his magazine with languid movements. Looking after a shop is not as exciting as his parents made it out to be. It is mostly old people who come in the morning, or the odd customer here and there in between the students from the school near by and the other customers.

The sound of the entrance bell chiming catches his attentions. He looks up from his magazine, the person who walks in has black hair and really thick eyebrows. Shoui watches them grab a random chocolate bar and come to the register and wonders if they ever have to brush their eyebrows.

“I will have this.” They start, reaching for their wallet. “Also, I am lost. Can you tell me how to reach the public library from here?”

__

Issei may not look like it but he is nervous. Tomorrow is the first day of middle school and Issei is anxious. How will it go? Will he get along with his seating neighbour? At least he will still have volleyball but what if he doesn’t get accepted?

In the end Issei doesn’t get much sleep. By the time he finally closes his eyes it is already 6 o’clock in the morning and his mother is already waking him up.

His seat neighbour is a quiet girl and a sleepy boy. Issei can’t help but feel disappointed, he expected and hoped for someone else. Still there is hope in volleyball.

Standing in the gym is a handful of first years like him, all planning to join the team as well. Issei is standing in between two boys; one is already talking animatedly with his neighbour while the other is quiet, eyes flitting over his surroundings. His bright hair catches Issei’s attention and before Issei can think of what he is doing, Issei is already clearing his throat to catch his attention.

“Have you been playing volleyball for long?” Issei asks nonchalantly, doing his best to appear as if his plans for middle school don’t depend on this.

“Two years now, my father is a big fan.” The boy shrugs. “He takes me to see volley matches with him when he can.” He adds with a grin.

“Really? My cousin got me into the sport.” Issei confides, shoulders relaxing the more he speaks. “Who is your favourite team? Oh, where are my manners? My name is Matsukawa Issei.” He thrusts his hand in the direction of the other boy, who blinks at the offending hand and slowly returns the handshake.

“Hanamaki Takahiro, pleasure to meet you. My father is a big fan of...”

Absorbed as he was in Hanamaki’s words a thought filtered through the back of Issei’s mind.

_This is looks like a good start._

**Author's Note:**

> The different names for Hanamaki and Issei come from the roles each va has played. Here: [matsukawa issei's](http://myanimelist.net/people/29389/Isamu_Yusen), [hanamaki takahiro's](http://myanimelist.net/people/14163/Tooru_Sakurai), [oikawa tooru's](http://myanimelist.net/people/87/Daisuke_Namikawa), [iwaizumi hajime's](http://myanimelist.net/people/283/Hiroyuki_Yoshino).  
> __
> 
> [1] While a futon is the mattress, a kakebuton is the cover, comforter if you will.
> 
> [2] Oiwa means rock, pretty fitting as a name if you ask me, pfft.
> 
> [3] Nursery schools (Hoikuen) are child welfare facilities that conform to the Child Welfare Law. Hoikuen takes the place of parents in caring for their children in case they have to work, take medical treatment, and other reasons that prove difficult for them to look after them. [[x](http://www.google.com/url?q=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.city.ichikawa.lg.jp%2Fenglish%2Fguide%2F0134.html&sa=D&sntz=1&usg=AFQjCNHyW03gZzsy7bbEl9KzLV_-2N_IDQ)]
> 
> __
> 
> Finally, after months of writing this I finished it. There are a lot of (minor) things I didn't include, like what if someone died before the other what happens then?
> 
> Thank you for reading and feel free to talk to me on [tumblr](roarofalannister.tumblr.com)


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